Our Mother
by Musings of a Cabin Boy
Summary: The story of Konoha and her children who love her, grow strong for her, defend her and then die for her. Rated for Character Death in later chapters


**_This is a story that I've been thinking about for a while, I'll probably keep it short, no more than 10 chapters, but I've also got some other ideas I've been sitting on so I thought I'd post this and see if any of you wanted it continued. So please enjoy and if you want more let me know :)_**

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The moon stood stiff at attention between the great open windows of the circular office, its stolen light banishing the colour of everything there within. Beneath the great windows, a man sat behind a grand wooden desk, a pipe resting in his left hand as he smoked. His head was lowered and hidden beneath his wide hat, his ancient eyes were weary. Stillness was everywhere, even the smoke from his pipe seeming to move sluggishly through the stunned air. In this mythical silence of both colour and sound, the most powerful man in history waited and plotted and planned, and mourned the death of the son his beloved village had birthed and nursed and raised for him. He planned to rebuild, to inspire and to instruct. He plotted to guard, to infiltrate and strike at his enemies before they could attack him. And he awaited his general. For the first time in nearly a decade, Konoha was vulnerable. There was work to be done.

The handle of the door to the office, wreathed in the silver of the moon, twisted suddenly, sending a jarring, tearing wave of noise through the room. The eyes beneath that thought-filled hat hardened, all sluggishness crushed as the door opened and a tall man sheathed in bandages marched into the room. He moved sharply, in every cell a military man, devoid of emotion and desire, entirely juxtaposed with the beautiful blond boy snoring lightly in his arms. When he reached the opposite end of the desk, he stopped and bowed low and precise, addressing his lord in a quiet yet still harsh voice, "Hokage-sama."

The man behind the desk had yet to move, but upon being addressed he lifted his gaze to stare intensely at the still bowing man. He quelled any feelings of sorrow or grief he felt at once again being referred to as Hokage before replying, his own voice deep, commanding and eternally, unwaveringly powerful, "Danzo."

The man wrapped in bandages stood upon being addressed and regarded his life long rival with the eyes of a dead man. Sharp, penetrating and _so_-_alive _eyes stared back into him for a long moment before nodding their approval at the lack of response they found. Their whole world would be mourning tonight and even his ANBU would be slow to respond to their old leaders call. He _needed_ Danzo alert, ready to serve. He always was.

The Hokage spoke in the manner of the past, when _shinobi obeyed_. He gave no explanations and allowed no comments. The way it would always have to be for them. "You are in charge of ANBU. You will rejoin it with Ne, and integrate any of its members who pass the test into the ANBU. I will provide new members of young ages to be trained in the ANBU arts, with Ne becoming a subdivision focused entirely on training young shinobi to become ANBU." He did not tell him that Toshirama Senju, the former ANBU commander, had died fighting the Kyuubi, he did not tell him how he knew of Ne's continued existence and he did not say where he would get the children for Danzo to 'integrate.' He merely watched Danzo's dead, dead eyes, watched and waited.

Danzo gave a sharp nod, before exhaling lightly, moulding that breath into a quiet reply, "Yes, Hokage-sama." Deep, deep within his soul, not in his mind, for Hiruzen may see it there, but in his soul, he allowed himself to smile at the return of the true Hokage. He continued to stare into his great rivals eyes, reveling in them, refusing to move even one inch until he was ordered to. Sarutobi didn't wait for him to move or twitch or speak, because tools do not do any of those things without command, and Danzo was his tool, his greatest weapon against the rest of the world of shinobi.

He had one final instruction, one that hurt the old man, the _father _inside him, but that the _Sandaime _would not allow him to avoid. Minato had wanted him raised as a hero, to be loved by the village. However, brilliant as he was, Minato was always a child, still enamoured with the village that raised him. Hiruzen was an old, old man, and he knew his mother well. She and her children would never accept the jinchuuriki, not when she preceived him as a threat. So Sarutobi had his own plan for the boy. He began again, voice as mighty as ever, none of his sadness being revealed to his general. "The boy in your arms," he pointed at the blonde bundle, "he will be placed into Ne immediately, and will be given the best training possible in all fields. You will submit monthly reports detailing the progress of him and all other youths being trained in Ne to me. I will then tell you who to submit for the test to join ANBU. Begin initiating these changes immediately. You're dismissed."

Danzo hid his sudden fear and excitement perfectly as he bowed and turned to leave the silvery office of the Hokage, now allowing himself to glance down at the child in his arms. He was the Yondaime Hokage's son, the son of a Kyuubi jinchuuriki and now the jinchuuriki of the very same beast himself. If his heritage was any indication, he was going to be an amazing shinobi, and a mightly weapon for Konoha to weild against its enemies. But, Minato was never like ANBU, and jinchuuriki were unpredictable. The boy could become a danger to them as easily an asset. It was his job to ensure that didn't happen. He was the roots, and now, once again, Hiruzen was the leaves. They would keep the village strong, together.

Hiruzen let his gaze drop as Danzo closed the door behind him. Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes for just a moment, allowing himself to really _feel_ his decision to forge Minato's son into a tool of death. It was necessary for the village, for too soon they would need a new threat to level at the world, another legend to climb to the bloody heights of shinobi fame, least they be overrun by their enemies, _who_, Hiruzen thought causticly, _had become far too numerous for an old man to have to deal with again! _Perhaps their hero would come in the form of one of the many young faces whom Hiruzen had refused to let fight the Kyuubi only two hours ago, maybe they would be inspired by Minato great sacrifice and rise to continue his and so many others legacy of bleeding and breaking and dying for Konoha. _Maybe... _But if they didn't, then the Sandaime would have to make one of his own, make him from kind blue eyes and warm blonde hair and a bright, happy smile, into a monster, the most vicious of killers. But Konoha was more important, and she had already been soaked in so much young blood over her long life, that one more blonde hero dying on her walls should hardly be noticed.

Finally opening his eyes, he called out for one of his guards, his voice loud in the great stillness of the night, "Panther." It took over a second, _much, much to long, _he thought, for the ANBU to appear in front of him, kneeling with his head bowed. The Sandaime was displeased, and his voice was harsh as he detailed his instructions. "You will go to the ANBU dormitories now, then to the jonin barracks, then to the chunnin barracks and finally to the Uchiha police station, and inform each of them of exactly what I am about to say." The Sandaime paused watching the minute drop of the head that revealed the ANBU's chagrin at being rebuked, which did not help his mood. He smothered his displeasure, however, and proceded with his message. The message spread across all Konoha over the next 6 hours. It went thusly:

"The Yondaime Hokage, Minato Namikaze, has defeated Kyuubi no Kitsune, at the cost of his life. He sealed the beast within himself, before his death, and thus ensured it would not return to the world for many decades. His sacrifice for Konoha, and all those others who also died fighting against the bijuu, will be forever remembered and revered. May Kami judge them kindly and may we meet them again in the next life."

With a sharp nod, he dismissed the infuriating boy, growling at him and at himself, the former for losing his focus when Konoha needed her soldiers and not her bleeding hearts, and the latter, for snapping at a boy who mirrored his own grief. But he stood, tall and strong, and turned to watch the moon in her course. She would sink behind the faces of his sensei's soon enough, and then he would have to care for a grieving city, he would have to be kind and dutiful and oh _so proud _of his wonderful family. Proud of every man who fought great claws with kunai, of every woman that braved monstrous jaws to wound the beast, of every child who'd faced him down, refusing to leave the battlefield, and of every son and daughter and mother and father and wife and husband who would hide their tears and cheer their loved ones sacrifice. He would not sleep that night, or the next. This night he steeled himself for the return of a most heavy burden. Tomorrow, he would grief again, for another pupil lost, and a beautiful blue eyed boy gone to dance with death


End file.
